


Collide

by Butterfly_girl



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, First Meetings, Fluff and Angst, Happy Ending, M/M, Maybe more angst than fluff to start with, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-01
Updated: 2018-05-31
Packaged: 2019-04-16 21:11:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 19,845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14173476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Butterfly_girl/pseuds/Butterfly_girl
Summary: In a world where the majority of people meet their soulmates before the age of 18, Prompto is beginning to think he is destined to be alone forever.  But when his clock finally appears, counting down to their first meeting, he isn't quite sure how to feel.Nyx, on the other hand, has never believed in soulmates and isn't sure he'd want to meet his even if he was given the chance.  When his clock starts ticking, he has to battle against his own thoughts to make some difficult decisions.





	1. Hour 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Prompto's clock finally appears, he isn't really sure how he feels about it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a warning: this is going to be long and, when I say slow burn, I really mean slow burn!
> 
> It'll be updated pretty regularly as I've been looking forward to writing this for ages. Tags will be added and rating will probably change for later chapters.

**12 hours to go**

Prompto awoke with a start, an overwhelming itch winding its way down his arm, the mild irritation quickly rising until it felt like the burning hot wax of a candle was being dribbled over his skin. He groaned as he pressed his other hand against it in an attempt to alleviate the pain, pulling it away in shock at the intense wave of heat that spread underneath it. Another mosquito bite, probably. He was always sensitive to them and had gotten some pretty bad ones recently, but this one didn’t feel normal. An allergic reaction, maybe? He knew he should have remembered to close his window last night but he found it so difficult to sleep without the noise of the wind rustling through the trees, the singing of the birds as they awoke in the morning. Silence felt uncomfortable somehow. It meant that he only had his own thoughts to listen to, and they freaked him out much more than the thought of waking up with another insect bite!

He rolled onto his back and leant across to switch on the small, dim light that sat next to his bed, hoping to illuminate the room just enough to get a clear look at his arm. He wanted to avoid having to get out of bed if that was at all possible. Cor was a light sleeper and Prompto knew that he had to get up early- the last thing he wanted to do was wake him about something this small and pathetic but, at the same time, he needed to get a look at what was going on. It was feeling stranger and stranger by the second, tingling slightly now, like tiny pinpricks digging into his arm, each one more painful than the last. He knew he had some antihistamine lying around somewhere from the last time this had happened but…

He stopped, letting out a gasp of air as he stared at his arm in wide-eyed disbelief. This was no mosquito bite. In fact, he couldn’t believe what he was seeing, that it was actually there. He glanced away and blinked several times, convinced that when he looked back it would have disappeared- a figment of his ever-hopeful imagination. But when his eyes drifted back to the expanse of soft skin between his elbow and wrist, completely unmarred only minutes earlier, it was still there, as clear as ever. The clock, slowly beginning its 12 hour countdown towards his destiny. He stared at it, black numbers standing out against his pale, freckled skin, the darkness of the tattoo a stark contrast to the light skin surrounding it, unable to tear his eyes away from it. He’d been waiting for this moment for so many years now and had almost given up hope of it ever happening but, seeing the clock now, hours, minutes and seconds permanently etched into his skin, he wasn’t quite sure how he felt. With each second that passed, he knew that he was one step closer to meeting his soulmate, to meeting the person that would make his life complete. His heart leapt in his chest, though whether from excitement or anxiety he wasn’t sure. 

For the past year, Prompto had begun to doubt that he even had a soulmate, let alone that he would be fortunate enough to find them. He knew that, although it was unusual, not everybody did and, the more he researched it, the more he was convinced that he would be one of the unlucky ones. He was different from his friends after all and, although he wasn’t quite sure how or why, the barcode across his wrist, perpetually hidden from the world by a wristband for fear that his secret (whatever it was) would be revealed, was a painful reminder that he didn’t quite fit in. That, no matter how hard he tried to be the same as everyone else, he never really would.

As he had neared the magical age of 18- the time by which the majority of those destined to find their soulmate had already had their first meeting- every conversation he’d had with anybody seemed to end up with the inevitable question: _‘had it happened to him yet?’_. He felt like he couldn’t go anywhere without somebody excitedly asking him about it, patting him gently on the shoulder when he revealed that no, he was still waiting, smiling reassuring as they declared that he shouldn’t give up hope just yet. Even people he barely knew had started asking him, and Prompto had found himself having to blink back tears and quickly mutter excuses to leave. 

He had often returned home after these conversations, locked himself in his bedroom and let himself cry hopelessly into his pillow, convinced that he was destined to spend the rest of his life alone. It didn’t help that everybody else he knew seemed to have met their soulmate already. Noct had Luna. Ignis had Gladio. He was the only one still waiting, eagerly peering down at his arm every morning in anticipation of the countdown beginning. And although his friends were sensitive about it, treading carefully whenever the topic came up, it still hurt more than he would ever admit. 

He was 19 now and people no longer asked those questions, instead exchanging pitying glances when they saw him, their conversations stopping awkwardly whenever he attempted to join in. He was the one without a soulmate. The freak that was destined to forever remain incomplete. He had told Noct and the others not to worry, that he was happy with his life, that their friendship was enough for him but, in truth, he felt broken.

But now, by some sort of miracle, there it was, the shape of the numbers burning into his arm. He had a soulmate after all. And, in less than 12 hours, he would finally get to meet them. 

His lips twisted into a small smile as the reality of the situation dawned on him. Grabbing his glasses from the table next to his bed, he slid them onto his face, pushing back his bangs as they caught awkwardly in the hinges of the frames in the same way they did every morning. He glanced down at his arm again now that his vision was clearer, part of him still convinced that he must be dreaming, pinching his arm hard in an attempt to wake himself up. A yelp of pain escaped his lips as he did so, and he clasped his hand over his mouth to muffle the squeal. He didn’t want to wake Cor. Not yet, at least. He knew that Cor would have so many questions for him and he wasn’t ready to answer them. He wanted to take this moment for himself, to let the good news wash over him, to adjust to his surprise. A red mark appeared on the outside of his wrist where he had pinched it, presumably with much more enthusiasm than he had planned, and he rubbed at the sore spot vigorously, a grin on his face in spite of the stinging pain. If it hurt this much, he definitely had to be awake. Which meant that this was real. It was actually happening!

*********

**11 hours and 47 minutes to go**

He scrambled out of bed, almost tripping over his own feet in his desperation to grab for his phone. Noct. He had to message Noct, had to let him know what had happened.

 **4:15am**  
Prompto: You awake?

He spotted the clock at the top of his phone screen- a reminder of how late it was, or how early depending on how you looked at it- and quickly tapped out a second message.

 **4:16am**  
Prompto: Shit. Sorry. Didn’t realise the time.

He ran his hands through his hair and let out a sigh, settling down on the bed and crossing his legs as he placed his phone on the table beside him He noticed that his hands were trembling and he clasped them together tightly in his lap to try to steady them. There was no way he would be able to sleep now. He had to talk to somebody, to share his excitement and, he finally admitted to himself, the slight tingle of fear that was settling in his stomach. He couldn’t really explain to himself where it was coming from and he knew that it had no place interrupting the happiness that he should have been feeling right now. That he was feeling. But it was definitely there, and it was growing with every tick of the clock, the prickle of anxiety becoming a heavy, terrified knot that made his stomach twist and convulse painfully.

The noise his phone made as it vibrated against the solid wood surface it was sitting on made him jump, snapping him out of his thoughts and back to reality. He grabbed at it quickly, aware of how loud it sounded against the night’s silence. He took a deep breath and clasped it to his chest, heart pounding as he listened carefully for any sound of movement from the room next door. He was always very aware of the fact that he was, essentially, a visitor to Cor’s apartment, that he didn’t really belong here, and he was desperate not to give Cor any reason to regret having agreed to let him live here. When his parents had moved to Altissa- for ‘unavoidable work reasons’, they had said- it was clear that they hadn’t really wanted Prompto to go with them. He had always felt like a burden to them anyway, like they hadn’t really wanted him around. Like they were scared of him, somehow. And going with them would have meant leaving his friends, uprooting his entire life when he only just felt like he’d got things settled. So when Noct had told him that, after only a little persuading, Cor had agreed to let him stay at his place, Prompto’s heart had leapt for joy. He didn’t know exactly why Cor had been so kind- why he was always so kind to him- but he was more grateful than he could ever put into words.

He slowly let out the breath that he hadn’t realised he’d been holding, the light snoring from the other side of the wall a comforting sign that Cor was still asleep. He peered at his phone, the light of the screen glowing white against the darkness of the room.

 **4:20am**  
Noct: I’m awake now! Haha.

Prompto hurriedly composed a reply, cursing that fact that, in his excitement, he hadn’t thought to check the time before sending his first text. In spite of his happiness, he couldn’t help but feel a small surge of guilt. He knew that Noct had an important meeting coming up and that he needed his sleep. He smiled to himself as he thought of his best friend. People often joked about him being lazy, and it _was_ true that he often looked tired and, when things were particularly bad, took frequent naps. But Prompto knew the real Noct, and the reality was that he was far from lazy. He had so much responsibility, so many things to do on top of his school work, so many people relying on him. And using magic really took it out of him as well, leaving his body feeling exhausted and weak. So sleep was important for him, even more than it was for other people.

 **4:21am**  
Prompto: I’m so sorry for waking you. Don’t worry. We can chat after your meeting.

He leant back against his pillow, fingers lightly tracing over the tattoo, numbers now slightly raised against his skin- an imprint of his destiny. Two messages came through, one quickly followed by another, and he scanned over them quickly. They were short, as Noct’s messages always were, almost as if he was typing out his thoughts as they came into his mind rather than thinking about what he was going to say first. 

**1:22am**  
Noct: Nah, it’s cool Prom

 **4:22am**  
Noct: So what’s up? Nightmares again?

Prompto could feel himself blushing, cheeks burning almost as much as the mark on his arm. Noct was one of only two people who knew how bad his nightmares got (Cor- unavoidably- was the second). He often woke up in the night, palms clammy and breathing ragged, unsure of where he was or- sometimes- even who he was. Over the last few months, they had been getting worse and he had found himself having to message his best friend late at night for comfort, for reassurance that he was awake, that things were real. That he was the person that he thought he was. He never told Noct what his nightmares were about, always making the excuse that he couldn’t remember them. The truth was, he remembered everything- every single detail- although he didn’t always understand. He felt like they were more than nightmares, that they were memories that had somehow been repressed and were re-emerging in his dreams. But he knew he couldn’t tell Noct about them. At least, not until he figured things out himself. He was always embarrassed, ashamed even, of the times that he had needed to contact him, sometimes even having to call him on the verge of a panic attack, rambling in incoherent whispers over the phone so as not to wake Cor. He wished he could deal with things himself…

 **4:23am**  
Prompto: No, nothing like that.

He composed the reply quickly, not wanting Noct to worry about him unnecessarily, pausing before typing out a second message.

 **4:23am**  
Prompto: It happened.

He paused, unsure if Noct would even understand what he was trying to say. After all, they barely mentioned the word ‘soulmate’ these days. His fingers lingered over the keys of his phone, trying to compose his thoughts into a coherent sentence so that he could explain _what_ exactly it was that had happened but, before he had even pressed the first key, the screen lit up again.

 **4:24am**  
Noct: By ‘it happened’ are you saying what I think you’re saying??

Prompto smiled to himself. Of course his best friend understood what he was saying. There had been times at the beginning of their friendship where he had wondered if Noct, himself, was his soulmate. They seemed to understand each other so well and sometimes he thought that Noct knew him better than he knew himself. He had thought- hoped, perhaps- that maybe their clocks just weren’t working, that they could somehow be soulmates without the countdown. But then Noct had told him about his and Luna’s matching tattoos. And that was the end of that…

 **4:25am**  
Prompto: Yeah. In 11 hours, 35 minutes and 17 seconds I’m going to meet my soulmate!!

Even as he typed the words, he could feel his heart pounding and something fluttering inside him, making him feel slightly nauseous. He had barely pressed send before his phone vibrated in his hand, mirroring the feeling in the pit of his stomach.

 **4:25am**  
Noct: OMG! I’m so happy for you!

 **4:26am**  
Noct: I told you it would happen.

 **4:27am**  
Noct: You feel good, right? Excited?

Three messages in quick succession, the excitement that Prompto knew Noct was feeling somehow managing to seep through alongside the words. He closed his eyes. Yes, Noct had continued to tell him over and over that he would find his soulmate, that there was someone out there to complete him. He had held him tightly through his crying fits, stroking his hair back reassuringly as he sobbed into his chest. Noct was the only person who truly knew how much the thought of not having a soulmate- of never having one- had hurt him. 

He knew he should feel excited, and he did- he really did. But there was still something else, that other less welcome emotion. The knot, sitting there in the pit of his stomach, clenching as it niggled away at his insides. He swallowed, his mouth and throat suddenly dry. Why was he feeling like this? He had waited for this moment for so long, had been hanging desperately onto the hope that, somehow, it would still happen for him. And now that it was here, he wasn’t sure that he was ready.

 **4:29am**  
Noct: Prom?

His hands shook and he gripped the phone tightly, clammy fingertips leaving damp marks across the keys as he clumsily typed out the next message.

 **4:31am**  
Prompto: Yeah, dude. Of course I do! Just maybe a little nervous too.

 **4:31am**  
Prompto: Okay. A lot nervous.

 **4:32am**  
Noct: Don’t be. It’ll be awesome.

He sighed to himself. His best friend clearly had more confidence in him than he had in himself. He didn’t have many friends, never had really. He had Noct now, of course- and Gladio and Ignis, but they were paid to hang out with Noct so, although they seemed to like him, he could never be completely sure if they counted. But apart from that there was nobody and, for many years before he had plucked up the courage to approach Noct, he had been completely on his own, too shy and insecure to even consider making friends. There was somebody out there now thinking about him, wondering what he was like, eagerly watching their own timer- identical to the one on his arm- as it counted down to their first meeting. What if he failed to live up to their expectations? He was nothing, really. Nothing special, anyway. Most of the time he had no idea why Noct was even friends with him! He could feel his chest tightening as the words finally formed in his mind, the real reason for his uneasiness. He tapped out a message, the words in his head forming on the screen in front of him, the black letters making his feelings seem even more real than they had before. Writing them out, seeing them there in front of him, made him feel pathetic, and he deleted and retyped them several times, eventually forcing himself to press send before he was able to change his mind again.

 **4:35am**  
Prompto: But what if I’m a disappointment?

He felt tears prick at the corners of his eyes as he waited for Noct to respond, hurriedly wiping them away with trembling hands as he opened his best friend’s reply. He wasn’t going to cry. Not tonight. Not on what was supposed to be the best day- the happiest day- of his life.

 **4:36am**  
Noct: No way, Prom! Who wouldn’t love you?!

 **4:36am**  
Noct: I gotta sleep but I’m so happy for you. Talk tomorrow, yeah?

 **4:37am**  
Prompto: Yeah. Night.

 **4:37am**  
Noct: Goodnight

 **4:37am**  
Noct: PS can’t wait to find out who it is!

*********

**11 hours and 15 minutes to go**

 _‘Who wouldn’t love you?'_ Prompto closed his eyes again and thought about Noct’s words, repeating them over and over in his mind. He clung tightly to them as he attempted to steady his breathing, tuning in to the rhythm of his pounding heart against his rib cage, more like the delicate flutter of butterfly wings than the powerful beating of a drum. He wished he could believe them, that he could trust without question that his best friend was being honest with him. 

When he thought about it objectively, rather than letting his paranoia take over, he knew that Noct wouldn’t lie to him- he had no reason to do that. But the kindliness that his friend showed him was still difficult to understand, especially when he had become so used to people treating him coldly and without the slightest hint of affection, as his parents had done for almost as long as he could remember. Being constantly made to feel like he was a waste of space had ground him down, and he struggled now with the there mere idea that he was worthy of Noct’s friendship. He wished more than anything that he was able to see the person Noct saw rather than the failure that stared back at him every time he looked in the mirror. But no matter how hard he tried, there was always something at the back of his mind that told him otherwise- a frustrating nagging sensation gnawing away at him, telling him that people didn’t know who he really was. That if they did, they would hate him as much as he hated himself.

Prompto took a deep breath. Tomorrow, he would meet this person- the person he had been destined to meet since the day he was born. And he was going to be happy about it. He forced a smile, pushing the negative thoughts to the back of his mind as he focused on the day ahead of him. He- Prompto Argentum- had a soulmate. He let the words sink in, the veil of anxiety that had been impeding his view lifting for the first time since he had spotted the clock on his arm. He felt his smile broaden, ignoring the ache of his cheeks as he let it stretch from ear to ear. It was going to be the most important day of his entire life, and he was determined that nothing would ruin it for him. He was going to make sure that it was absolutely perfect.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, all comments and feedback are very much appreciated.


	2. Hour 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nyx feels like life would be so much easier if he only had himself to worry about. He doesn't need anybody else. And he certainly doesn't need a soulmate...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love having an excuse to write these three together! They're so much fun to write c:

**11 hours to go**

“Finally I have assumed my place above the rest of humanity. I am a god among mortals!”

“Fuck, Nyx,” Libertus laughed, grabbing his friend by the wrist to stop him wobbling unsteadily. “Get down off the table. You’re embarrassing yourself.”

“Not just yourself this time either.” Crowe raised an eyebrow as she gestured around the bar. “You’re embarrassing us too.”

Nyx scanned the room with uncertainty, squinting into the light as he tried to understand what Crowe was pointing at. He knew it must be late since the bar, usually so busy it was impossible to find a table, was almost empty, only a handful of people still chatting quietly as they finished their drinks. But Crowe was right- every conversation had stopped and the room was silent, all eyes fixed on him as he stood, drink in hand, on a table in the centre of the room. A few individuals- probably those who were new to the area and didn’t know him- covered their mouths as they tried to stifle their laughter while the other more frequent patrons exchanged knowing glances between themselves. 

“What are you all staring at?” he shouted, almost falling off balance again as he raised his arms above his head. “Yeah, the Hero of Insomnia has had a few drinks! Any of you got a problem with that?” He raised his nearly empty bottle in a private toast to himself.

“Shit, Lib. We need to get him home…” Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Crowe lean towards Libertus and mutter something in his ear, the words far too quiet for Nyx to make out. “Okay babe, let’s get you down from there before you fall down.” She stood up and placed her hand on his wrist, the cool, soft touch of her skin against his calming him just long enough for her to tighten her grip and guide him down to safety.

“But I don’t want to go home,” he slurred, beginning to climb gingerly down from the table despite his protestations.

“Dude. It’s like 5am. We’ve all got work tomorrow, and Drautos will kick all of our asses if we’re late!” Libertus wasn’t smiling now, a frown spreading across his face as he placed his arm around Nyx’s back, breaking his fall as he stumbled into him. “We should have taken you home ages ago!” 

“I’m not a child,” he objected, pulling away from his friend. “I don’t need you to look after me. I don’t need anyone.”

“Maybe not- but you are drunk,” Libertus replied, his voice serious as he looked at Crowe, a silent conversation passing between the two of them.

“I am not!” He knew he sounded childish and immature but he didn’t care. It frustrated Nyx no end when they were like this, when they refused to share their thoughts with him. When they kept secrets. Especially when he knew it was about him.

He roughly pushed Crowe’s hand away from where it still rested on his arm, determined to prove to his friends that, whatever they thought, he was still in complete control of his senses. As he took a step forward to grab his phone from where it sat on the table, he tripped over the leg of one of the chairs, losing his balance entirely this time and landing in a crumpled heap on the floor, scraping the heel of his hand as he fell.

“Ouch,” he groaned, raising his hand in front of his face to inspect the damage. “Shit, that hurts.”

“Point proven, I think.” Crowe looked down at him with her hands on her hips, her lips twisting upwards into a small smile as she shook her head. For a few seconds, Nyx glared at the hand that she held out before thinking better of it and grabbing hold of it, placing his other hand on the top of the table to lever himself back onto his feet. “Let me see that,” she demanded, taking his injured hand and turning it over to look at the wound. “It’s barely bleeding.” Crowe laughed, pulling a cloth from her pocket, wrapping it around the graze and tying a quick knot to hold it in place. “You’ll live, hero!”

“In that case- it’s definitely home time,” Libertus sighed, wrapping his arm around his shoulders and squeezing gently as he guided him towards the door. 

“Just one more drink?” Nyx asked hopefully.

“No way, dude!” Libertus chuckled as he tightened his grip on his friend. “Nobody wants to see more ‘god among mortals’ shit.”

“Fine. But…I’m not sure I can remember the way.”

“Good job you’ve got us then, right?” Crowe took his uninjured hand, lacing their fingers together as she looked up at him. 

“Yeah, Mr ‘I don’t need anyone’” Libertus’ voice was serious but there was a glimmer of laughter in his eyes that Nyx knew all too well.

“Okay, maybe I was wrong,” he muttered, a smile making its way onto his own face. “Let’s go home.”

********

**10 hours and 40 minutes to go**

“Why are there two of you?” Nyx stared at Crowe, scanning her up and down, his forehead wrinkled in concentration as he tried to make sense of what he was seeing. “Hey, Lib- why are there two Crowes?” 

He turned to his friend questioningly, searching for some sort of reassurance that he wasn’t, in fact, completely losing it this time. It wouldn’t have surprised him if some sort of switch had finally flipped and he had lost his grip entirely on the world around him. It had been coming for long enough. Things had been different since Galahd. Since his sister. Most days he didn’t even feel like he was the same person and, inevitably, it hadn’t taken him long to turn to alcohol to help him numb the pain. Many nights, now, he found himself staring into an empty bottle, attempting to block out the world around him. If it hadn’t been for Libertus and Crowe, he would probably have been long dead. But they were always there, without fail, dragging him home when he’d had one too many, making sure that he was safe. They were good friends. He knew he was lucky to have them and he was grateful for their friendship, but he knew it wouldn’t last. One day they would have enough of trying to save him from himself, and then they would leave and he would be alone. Everybody left eventually- it was only a matter of time. It was better that way, anyway. He was better when he was on his own, when the only person he had to worry about hurting was himself…

“Ah shit, two Crowes? One Crowe is already more than enough,” Libertus snickered, quickly ducking out of the way to avoid Crowe’s playful, yet carefully aimed, slap.

“Huh?” Nyx narrowed his eyes as he glanced at Crowe again, trying without success to make the two identical copies blend into one.

“He’s just messing with you, Nyx,” the two Crowes grinned back at him. “There’s just one of me.”

“Thank gods for that,” Libertus snorted.

“Fuck you, Lib.” Crowe tried again, this time managing to hit Libertus squarely on the arm, jumping away laughing before he could retaliate. “Come on, Nyx. Nearly home.” She placed her hand on his right arm again, half way between his wrist and his elbow. The contact was delicate, her palm hovering above his arm so that they were barely touching, but Nyx flinched away, staggering backwards as he cradled his arm to his chest, the accusation in his eyes causing Crowe to step away herself. She looked at Libertus, shrugging her shoulders as if to say _‘I have no idea what’s going on.’_

“Ouch. Shit, Crowe. What the fuck did you do?” Nyx winced, a stabbing pain sweeping up his arm as if Crowe had somehow managed to electrocute him.

“Told you she was dangerous.” Libertus winked at Crowe, who stuck her tongue out at him. She turned back to Nyx, concern etched across her face as she began to roll up the sleeve of his jacket.

“I barely touched you! What sort of pain is it?” 

“It wouldn’t surprise me if you’d hurt yourself when you fell earlier,” Libertus said, returning to his side and placing his hand on his shoulder. “You hit the ground pretty hard. Probably only feeling it now the alcohol’s beginning to wear off.”

“Hmm…maybe,” Crowe nodded uncertainly as she continued to struggle with the sleeve of the jacket. “It’s a little hot though. Feel.”

She took Libertus' hand and placed it on Nyx’s arm, pressing it down over the sore spot and causing Nyx to groan as the aching sensation grew. He gritted his teeth as he fought to resist the urge to tug his arm out of his friend’s grasp.

“Shit. Yeah, that’s burning, Nyx! What d’you do?” Libertus’ eyes widened in horror as he felt the heat emanating through the thick fabric of Nyx’s Kingsglaive jacket and onto his own hand.

“Didn’t do anything…” Nyx mumbled, closing his eyes in an attempt to stop the world spinning. “It’s my hand that I hurt, remember…”. All he wanted was to drink some water and get home, preferably in that order. The nausea that usually accompanied his late night walks home from the bar was beginning to intensify and he knew that, if he didn’t get some water soon, he was sure to vomit. And even he couldn’t deal with that embarrassment.

He leant heavily against Libertus, taking a few deep breaths in the hope that the cool early morning air would soothe him. Even behind his closed eyelids, the darkness was swirling and twisting as if it was his mind itself that wouldn’t stop spinning.

“Hey. Nyx. Did you hear me?” He reluctantly prised open his eyelids to see Crowe standing in front of him, both hands gripping his shoulders tightly as she looked at him with a concerned expression.

“Huh?” Nyx blinked several times.

“I said- are you feeling okay? You look a little pale…”

“Yeah, dude. You look rough.” Libertus gave Nyx a tiny shove so that he was standing upright, forcing him to balance on his own, weak legs rather than using his friend as a crutch. “Even rougher than usual!”

“Lib!” Crowe glared at Libertus, before returning her gaze to Nyx. She reached up to stroke damp strands of hair away from his forehead, which had become clammy with the effort of trying to hold back his nausea. She tucked a stray braid behind his ear, her touch so delicate, so reassuring, that all Nyx wanted was to collapse into her embrace, close his eyes and sleep. “Don’t joke, Lib. He’s really not well. Help me get him home.” His thoughts were broken as Crowe spoke again, breaking eye contact only to look at Libertus in desperation. 

“You think you can make it home?” 

Nyx nodded, not trusting himself to be able to answer.

“Okay, let’s take it slowly,” Crowe smiled, linking her arm in his, carefully avoiding the sore spot, which was now pulsating as if some sort of alien was trying to burst out from underneath his skin. “We can check this out when we get back.”

Nyx hated that he constantly caused his two best friends so much worry, hated the expressions he saw on their faces when he got like this. Hated the fact that, no matter how many times he had tried to push them away, they kept coming back for more. But, most of all, he hated admitting that he needed them. He swallowed as he took a shaky step forward. The sooner he could get home, the sooner he could sleep. And, in the morning, everything would be clearer. Everything would be better. 

“There we go,” Libertus soothed, pressing his palm firmly between Nyx’s shoulder blades and massaging gently. “Not far now…”

********

**10 hours and 20 minutes to go**

Nyx had never in his life been more grateful to see the door to his apartment. The stairs that he normally took two at a time had felt like a mountain that needed to be negotiated and, if it hadn’t been for Libertus practically carrying him up, he wasn’t sure he would have made it. Every muscle in his body was aching, his stomach was beginning to heave and his head was still spinning in a way that made no sense to him, like the world had been picked up and dropped down on a carousel, moving slowly at first but quickly gaining momentum until all the colours merged into one big, confusing mess.

“Keys,” Crowe demanded, holding out her hand expectantly.

“What?” Nyx replied. His stomach felt like a balloon had been inflated inside it, with everything he had eaten and drunk for the past couple of hours pressing against it in a race to be expelled. He swallowed, barely registering what Crowe was asking for as he focused on holding back the vomit that was threatening to escape.

“I need your keys, babe.” Crowe’s voice was soft and comforting, with no trace of the frustration that Nyx had expected to hear, that he probably _deserved_ to hear. “Want to get you inside so I can get a look at that arm. It still hurts?”

“Mmm.” Nyx rubbed at his arm absent-mindedly. The pounding in his head had distracted him somewhat, so much so that he’d almost forgotten about his arm. But as he touched it now, he noticed how sensitive the skin was, the pricking, stinging pain that coursed through his veins feeling like he’d been stung by some sort of insect. It made sense. There were lots of mosquitoes around this time of year. What didn’t make sense was the heat that seemed to spread the entire length of his arm. It didn’t seem to have died down at all, burning through his jacket sleeve so intensely that Nyx was surprised not to find a hole in the material.

“Don’t worry, dude.” Libertus broke through the silence, clapping a hand against his back as he grinned at him. “Crowe can fix anything!”

“Aww, being nice for a change!” Crowe laughed, the corners of her eyes creasing up as she smiled back at Libertus. She turned back to Nyx, holding out her hand again as she suddenly became more serious. “I do need those keys though. You’ve got them right?” 

“Yeah…they’re here…somewhere.” Nyx felt around in his pockets, pulling them out and fumbling with them as he attempted to fit them into the lock. “Sorry…I…”

“Let me help.” Crowe placed her hand on top of his, gently removing the keys from his grasp and turning them easily in the lock before pushing the door open and stepping through into the apartment. “Now, let’s get you sat down so I can check that out. Lib- can you grab a glass of water?” 

“Sure thing.” Libertus nodded, stepping past Nyx and heading towards the kitchen.

Crowe guided Nyx into the sitting room, placing one hand on his back as she lowered him onto the couch. He sighed softly as he settled back against the comfortable pillows, a welcome comfort for his tired body. He could hear the sound of running water from the kitchen and was suddenly aware of how dry his mouth was, his parched lips craving the taste of cold, sweet water. 

“Better?” Libertus asked, returning from the kitchen with a glass, taking Nyx’s hands and wrapping them around it when he didn’t move to take it himself. “Water. It’ll help.”

“Thanks,” Nyx muttered, his words catching in his throat as he lifted the cup to his lips, taking in just enough water to moisten his lips. The coolness of the cup as he clutched it against his sweaty palms immediately made him feel a bit better, a bit more human. He took another sip, closing his eyes as the water began to settle in his stomach, calming his nausea. “Sorry. Again.” He stared intently at the shimmering surface of the water, desperately trying to avoid eye contact with either of his friends. He felt guilty, as he always did, and ashamed of his behaviour.

“We know,” Crowe soothed, sitting down beside him on the couch and placing her hand on his knee. 

“We’re always here for you, Nyx.” Libertus perched on the arm rest, wrapping his arm around Nyx’s shoulders and pulling him towards him. “Though…you know you need to stop doing this. You’re gonna end up killing yourself if you keep this up.”

Nyx leant forward and put his head in his hands, letting out a groan of frustration as he shrugged his friend away. Libertus had tried to have this conversation with him several times over the past few weeks. Nyx knew that he couldn’t avoid it forever, but he wasn’t ready to talk. Not yet. Maybe not ever.

“Not now, Lib,” Crowe murmured, squeezing Nyx’s knee tightly.

“If not now, then when?!” Libertus tugged on the braids at the back of Nyx’s head so that he was forced to look up, placing two fingers gently underneath his chin and turning his head towards him. “Please, Nyx. I’m worried. You’re important to me. I can’t lose you.” Tears glistened in the corners of his eyes and his lower lip trembled as he finished talking. He dropped a quick kiss on the top of Nyx’s head, wrapping his arm around him more tightly and pulling him close.

“I’m trying, Lib,” Nyx replied, resting his head against his friend’s chest and reaching up to wipe the tears away from his own eyes. “I promise, I’m trying.”

“We know. We just love you, that’s all.” Crowe smiled at him sadly, placing a delicate kiss on his cheek before glancing down towards his arm. “I really need to take a look at that now, Nyx. That okay?”

“Mmm…” Nyx closed his eyes as Crowe tried to roll up the sleeve of his jacket. 

“It’s a little tight. Be easier to just take it off if you can manage it.” She reached up to help him as he shrugged off the heavy jacket, removing one sleeve at a time, taking care not to scrape the rough material against his burning skin. She moved slowly, folding the jacket and placing it over the arm of a chair before returning and taking his bare arm in both hands, turning it over to examine it more carefully. 

“Oh my gods…” she breathed, letting out a gasp of air that seemed to go on forever.

“What is it?” Libertus shifted slightly, leaning forwards to get a good view of Nyx’s arm. “Fuck, Nyx…”

Nyx forced his eyes open, directing his attention to Libertus rather than looking straight at his arm. He noticed his hands begin to tremble as he watched Libertus’ eyes widen in a mixture of shock, fear and genuine disbelief and, fighting an almost overwhelming desire to jam his eyelids shut again, followed his friend’s gaze. He felt his own jaw drop in surprise and horror as the cause of his discomfort became apparent. A timer, raised black numbers tattooed into his skin. 10 hours: 7 minutes: 14 seconds. 13 seconds. 12 seconds. Nyx watched the clock tick down, each second seeming to take longer than the last. Part of him wanted nothing more than to throw his jacket back on, roll the sleeve down and deny the very existence of the abomination that now marred the otherwise soft, flawless skin just inside his elbow. But, try as he might, he was unable to tear his eyes away. 3 seconds. 2 seconds. He swallowed, his throat suddenly dry again. His chest felt tight and he could hear his own breathing, loud, raspy and uneven against the otherwise silent room. 

“Nyx?” Crowe’s face was in front of his now, her hands on his shoulders as she rubbed them gentle. “Deep breaths. Come on. Look at me and follow my breathing.”

Nyx forced his eyes away from his arm to meet Crowe’s, focusing on the steady inhale and exhale of each breath until he felt his own breathing begin to match that of his friend’s, slowing down and gradually returning to normal. 

“This is a good thing, right?” Libertus’ voice cut through the awkward silence that hung between the friends, the false cheerfulness that laced his words all too obvious to Nyx’s ears.

“How?” Anger suddenly flooded through him as he spat out the word, glaring at his friend as he spoke.

“What do you mean ‘how’? Having a soulmate- that’s a good thing. A great thing, actually!”

“I don’t believe in soulmates.”

“Nyx, babe, you can’t really deny it.” Crowe ran her fingers over the numbers on his forearm, tracing the outline of each shape. “The proof is literally right here in front of you…”

“I don’t need a soulmate. I don’t want one!” He tugged his arm away, rubbing at it roughly with his other hand as if he were trying to scrub away the evidence. Unsurprisingly, when he uncovered it again, the numbers were just as clear as ever, a permanent reminder that, no matter what he thought, the gods had it all mapped out for him. He groaned, wrapping his hand around his arm to cover the tattoo. At least if it was hidden, he wouldn’t have to look at it, wouldn’t have the constant reminder of the thing that he hoped he’d never have to see.

“Because you don’t need anyone, right?” Crowe raised an eyebrow as she prised his hand away from his arm, holding it up gently so that he was forced to stare at the numbers again. “This really could be the best thing ever, Nyx. It might be the thing that’s been missing. It could actually make you happy- have you considered that?”

“I don’t need anybody else to make me happy,” Nyx snapped. “I’m perfectly capable of making my own happiness. I don’t…”

“Because you’ve been doing such a good job of that lately!” Libertus interrupted, standing up and moving beside Crowe. “I’m with Crowe on this one, dude. It couldn’t have happened at a better time!”

“Fuck this.” Nyx shook his head angrily, letting his arm drop to his side. “No clock or timer or countdown or… or whatever the fuck this thing is,” he swung his arm wildly in front of his friends’ faces, “is going to tell me who I get to spend the rest of my life with.”

“You…um… might wanna let the gods know that,” Crowe replied softly.

Nyx groaned again, rubbing his hand across the back of his neck as he considered his options. Whatever the Astrals thought, he knew one thing for sure: Nyx Ulric was in charge of his own destiny. And he was going to do whatever it took to prove it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sure that if anybody can change Nyx's mind about soulmates, it's Prom. Can't wait for them to meet for the first time!
> 
> As always, all feedback is very much appreciated c:
> 
> [Come and chat on tumblr](https://butterfly-girl86.tumblr.com/). I'm nice, I promise!


	3. Hour 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompto can't sleep, his mind full of excitement and worry. Cor is the only person around, but surely he won't be able to help...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Life is too busy- I have so many ideas for this but not enough time to write them.
> 
> The next chapter won't be far away though!

**10 hours to go**

Prompto lay there staring at the ceiling as the first glimmers of early morning sunlight began to sneak in through the gaps in the curtains, casting just enough light over the room that the shadows seemed to dance gracefully across the walls. He rolled over on to his side and reached out to grab his phone from the table near the bed. 6:00am. Nearly two hours since he’d first noticed the timer appear on his arm. He’d tried to go back to sleep, he really had, but no matter how hard he tried, his mind kept him awake, running though numerous thoughts and possibilities as though he’d put it on fast forward! As a result, he’d spent the last hour or so tossing and turning, trying to get comfortable enough to at least close his eyes and attempt to rest. He had a big day ahead of him after all. He had a soulmate. Even as he repeated the words over and over in his head, he couldn’t believe it, running his fingers over the raised edges of the tattoo to remind himself that what he was saying was actually true. The heat was still there, spreading across his forearm, but it had died down. It was no longer painful to touch, now more like an irritating itch that was crying out to be scratched. 

He sat up in bed and roughly rubbed his eyes, swollen and stinging from the lack of sleep. He groaned as he stretched, his arms feeling so heavy that he struggled to lift them above his head, dropping them back down by his sides as if they were made out of lead. An intense ache permeated every muscle in his body and the fuzziness in his head, which he often felt for a few moments upon waking in the morning, seemed to outstay its welcome, lingering for much longer than it usually did. Checking his phone again, he considered what to do next. It was still far too early, but sleep didn’t seem to be a viable option. He considered messaging Noct again, but quickly decided against it. His friend would still be asleep and there wasn’t much point in them both being exhausted. A quick game of Kings Knight was a possibility, as long as he kept it on silent, but- even as he opened the app, his fingers trembling as they clumsily tapped away on the keypad- he knew he didn’t have enough concentration. 

Prompto sighed in frustration. It was at moments like this that he wished he still lived with his parents. Not that they would have given him the time of day over something like this, something that was completely insignificant in their eyes. If it wasn’t related to their work or his career prospects, they had never really cared enough to listen. He knew they were busy but still…. He felt tears prick at the corners of his eyes. Sure, they'd never loved him in the way that he’d always wished they would, but he still missed them more than he would ever admit. He hated feeling so lonely all the time and now, more than ever, yearned for somebody he could discuss all this with, to talk through his excitement and concerns. Somebody who would be able to put his mind at rest. In his head, he ran through the list of people he considered ‘real friends’, reckoning that he could probably count them on one hand: Noct was, obviously, right at the top of list followed by Gladio and Ignis and then, possibly, Cor, who he still didn’t feel that he knew particularly well but, somehow, trusted him all the same. 

He contemplated the people on his list. Cor was out- he would getting up for work any minute now and, besides, he wasn’t sure he felt altogether comfortable having this sort of conversation with him. Noct was the natural choice for such an intimate discussion, but Prompto knew that his meeting wouldn’t be over for hours yet and he wasn’t sure he could last alone with his own thoughts for that long. That only left Ignis and Gladio- both of whom he was sure would let him talk for as long as he needed to and listen intently but…. Well, they just weren’t Noct. And he had no idea how he would even go about broaching the subject with them. It wasn’t like he could just call either of them up and invite himself over.

He groaned again, running his hands through his hair and across his forehead. “Come on Prompto, pull yourself together,” he muttered under his breath, taking a couple of deep breaths in and out. “You can do this.”

********

**9 hours, 45 minutes to go**

He lay there for a few moments longer before reluctantly throwing off the covers and swinging his legs off the bed, climbing gingerly to his feet as he attempted, once again, to stretch out his aching body. Perhaps some fresh air would help him organise his thoughts, give him time to put together a plan for the rest of the day. If he knew what he was going to do, how he was going to act, maybe even what he was going to say, he was sure he’d feel a lot better. The idea came to him in a sudden flash of inspiration. He’d go for a run. Gladio had once told him that running was when he did most of his thinking and, Prompto had to admit, there was nothing quite like pounding the pavement, his favourite songs blaring out through his headphones, to help him think clearly. It worked every time. So far, at least.

Prompto smiled, grabbing his glasses from the table next to the bed and sliding them onto his face, leaving the light off as he gathered up the clothes he needed, planning to change in the bathroom so he didn’t disturb Cor. As it turned out, moving around in the dark was a bad plan and, as he tiptoed over to where he remembered leaving his sneakers the day before, he tripped over the corner of the bed, swearing loudly as he stubbed his toe.

“Shit!” he hissed as the agonising pain swept through him. “Oh my gods…”

He quickly bit his lip to hold in any remaining cries of pain, hopping back to the bed and throwing himself on to it, clutching his foot in his hands and pulling it awkwardly towards him to inspect the damage.

There was a knock on the door, quiet and hesitant as if the person knocking wasn’t sure that he was awake, followed by a voice.

“Prompto?”

“Cor… I’m so sorry.” Prompto’s voice was shaking as he vigorously rubbed at his aching toe, already red and slightly swollen from where he had bashed it. “I didn’t mean to wake you. I’m sorry.”

“Please stop apologising,” Cor sighed but, even without seeing his face, Prompto was sure he could detect the smallest hint of amusement in his words. “Is everything okay?”

“I um…” Prompto felt the heat rush to his cheeks as he began to blush, pausing momentarily while he thought about what to say: the truth, embarrassing as it was, or some convoluted and, probably, over-exaggerated story, which is what he would usually have done under these circumstances. He was sure that, if he thought hard enough, he would be able to come up with something convincing enough that Cor would leave him alone and let him pretend to go back to sleep. After all, he’d spent most of his life making things up to avoid telling Noct the truth about his relationship with his parents. But, he reasoned, Cor was different. He probably wouldn’t be so easy to lie to and, anyway, he would find out sooner or later. Prompto wasn’t even sure why he was so worried- he’d only been his usual clumsy self and fallen into something. It wasn’t the first time it had happened, and it wouldn’t be the last. It’s not like Cor would have been surprised anyway. But if he told the truth about this, he was sure the whole story would come out: why he was awake so early, why he’d decided to go for a run. The fact that his timer had appeared. And he still wasn’t sure that he was ready to have that conversation with Cor. 

He took a deep breath, running his hands through his hair as he wracked his brain for something to say, sighing in frustration as he drew a blank. His mind, for once, was completely empty. He practically begged it to think quickly, to come up with something, anything. But nothing came to him- which was ironic, he thought, since the only reason he’d had to get out of bed in the first place was because his mind wouldn’t keep still! He sighed again. The truth would have to do. “I tripped over the bed.”

“Why are you even awake? Another nightmare?” Prompto’s cheeks reddened further as he heard the obvious concern in Cor’s voice. He was glad, in a way, that he finally had someone (someone other than Noct, who- for obvious reasons- he couldn’t just go running to whenever he needed a friendly face) who cared about him enough to worry but, at the same time, it made him feel a little uncomfortable. He was never sure how he was supposed to react. He didn’t have enough experience of affection to know what he was supposed to say in response, what he was supposed to do. He supposed that Cor was the same. They were a good match in that way.

“No… it’s… I just couldn’t sleep,” he managed to stammer, arms trembling as he glanced down at the timer, numbers appearing even blacker now against the pale, freckled skin of his inner arm. He couldn’t have hidden it even if he’d wanted to.

“It seems ridiculous to be having this conversation through a closed door. Okay if I come in?” 

“I…well…” He watched the door handle jiggle up and down, torn between leaping forwards and barricading the door shut with everything he had or just slumping back on the bed and letting it all happen. Before he’d made a decision either way, the door opened the smallest crack and Cor’s face peered into the room, the dark circles under his eyes more obvious that ever in the bleakness of the early morning. Seems like fate had decided for him, Prompto thought. It seemed to be doing that rather a lot recently. He choked back a snort of laughter at the thought, instead choosing to smile weakly in Cor’s direction. “Sure,” he muttered, shuffling backwards on the bed and pulling his knees up to his chest, the rest of the bed left empty- his way of wordlessly offering an invitation for Cor to come and sit with him.

Cor crossed the room and perched on the edge of the bed, his body stiffening as he sat upright, his posture far too formal under the circumstances. Prompto let out a small giggle in spite of himself.

“What is it?” Cor looked bemused as he looked Prompto up and down.

“It’s just…” Prompto smiled as he looked at Cor, clearly as unsure of how he was supposed to act as he was himself. Worse, actually, if his tense smile and stern expression was any indication of how he was feeling. “You look like you’re sitting in a meeting with King Regis!”

“What do you mean?” Cor ran a hand over the back of his neck, his forehead wrinkling in confusion.

“You don’t always need to be so formal, you know? I thought _I_ was awkward around other people, but it looks like you’re even more uncomfort…” His voice trailed off, one look at Cor making him feel like he might have said the wrong thing. He didn’t know why he’d suddenly got so confident, why he’d felt like it was okay for him to say what was in his head. He looked down, fiddling with his wristband as he chewed at his lower lip anxiously. This was it. Cor was going to ask him to leave, he knew it. He’d finally got to a point in his life where things might start going his way and he’d ruined it just as he’d always known he would. If he’d only kept his mouth shut…

A strange noise, a cross between a grunt and a low, lasting rumble, made Prompto sit straight back up in shock, his head snapping back in Cor’s direction. His eyes widened in surprise at the sight that met his eyes- was Cor Leonis actually laughing? He was always so serious, so much so that there were days that Prompto wondered if it was physically possible for him to even crack a smile. But now here he was, sitting on the corner of Prompto’s bed, grinning from ear to ear as he continued to laugh. 

“No need to look so shocked, kid,” he snorted. “Contrary to popular belief, I’m actually quite capable of loosening up from time to time.” He paused, taking such a long, hard look that Prompto felt like his eyes must have burnt a hole right through him. “I just haven’t had much experience with this sort of thing.”

“Me neither,” Prompto admitted, flicking his wristband absentmindedly against his wrist as he avoided eye contact.

“I like having you here, Prompto.” Cor placed a hand heavily on Prompto’s shoulder, squeezing tightly before quickly letting go. “And I want you to feel like you can talk to me.”

Prompto finally met Cor’s eyes, lingering for a few seconds whilst he waited for his mind to tick over his options. Cor seemed genuine, like he really wanted to help. Like he actually cared. He took a deep breath.

“Okay,” he murmured. “But this might take a while…”

“Then we must make sure we’ve got the proper fuel for the job,” Cor grinned, standing up and moving purposefully across the room. When he reached the door, he turned around and raised one eyebrow at Prompto, as though he was surprised to see him still curled up on the bed rather than following right behind him. “Well, are you coming?”

“Coming where?” It was Prompto’s turn to sound surprised now.

“Coffee of course!” Cor chuckled again, his low, rumbling laugh like the roar of distant thunder. “First we make the coffee, then we talk. Sound good?”

“Yeah,” Prompto replied. He smiled as he followed Cor downstairs, feeling so content that he was almost able to forget about the nagging ache in his foot. It felt good to finally have somebody to talk to. Now all he needed to do was be brave.

********

**9 hours, 20 minutes to go**

By the time he’d slid onto a chair in the kitchen and had a mug of steaming black coffee thrust into his hands, he felt a lot better about the whole situation. The pain in his toe had died down to the point that he wondered why he’d made such a fuss in the first place, and the anxiety he’d had initially about talking to Cor had almost completely disappeared.

“So…” Cor placed his own mug down on the table and pulled up a chair, resting his elbows on the table and leaning his head on his hands.

“So…” Prompto gave a small, nervous giggle, looking down and staring intently at the swirling coffee in front of him, fiddling with the skin around his nails as he breathed deeply.

“You gotta start, kid,” Cor laughed, pressing his hand, calloused palms and all, over Prompto’s smaller ones in an attempt to keep them still. “I have no idea what’s going on and it’s too early for guessing games. I want to help but you’ve gotta open up a bit.”

“I know.” Prompto swallowed, tearing his eyes away from the coffee and looking up. “I just… it’s hard to know where to start.”

Cor laughed again, releasing Prompto’s hands and reaching up to run the back of his own hand over his eyes before taking a long gulp of coffee. “Well, I find that starting at the beginning usually works for me.” He winked softly, and Prompto felt his whole body relax slightly, as if he was a puppet and the strings holding him up had just been loosened to allow his limbs to fall into a more natural position. He swallowed again, his breathing still shallow as he fought to keep his eyes from wandering back to the table. “Come on, Prom. I can’t be that hard to talk to, can I?”

In truth, Prompto was terrified of Cor. Always had been. Not that he had ever done anything to make him feel that way. He’d only ever treated him fairly, with more kindness than most other people in his life and, as far as Prompto knew, with no reason or motive behind his actions. But he had a reputation which, if Gladio’s stories were to be believed, was completely and utterly well deserved. Not that he would ever tell Cor any of that. He wouldn’t dare.

He smiled up weakly. “So a thing happened.” He paused, unsure how to continue.

“A thing?” Cor raised an eyebrow again, the corner of his lips twitching upwards into a slight smile.

Prompto sighed. It was no wonder that Cor was amused. He’d managed to find the one person in the entire world with worse communication skills than him, and the fact that they were sitting together at a table at 6:40am on a cold, summer’s morning attempting to have an important conversation was, Prompto had to admit, rather comical.

“This,” he muttered, shoving his arm out in front of him towards where Cor was sitting. 

Cor gently took hold of his wrist, the coolness of his skin against Prompto’s enough to elicit a small shiver, before running his hands up towards his elbow and turning it over so that the black numbers of the timer were in full view. Under the bright lights of the kitchen, the tattoo seemed even more obvious, and Prompto found his eyes involuntarily drawn to the ever decreasing numbers now permanently etched into his skin. 

“Prom…this is amazing. I’m so pleased for you.” Cor looked up at him and smiled, the corners of his eyes scrunching up in that way they only did when he was truly happy about something. “It’s great news, isn’t it?” The smile faded slightly as he analysed Prompto’s expression, unsure and tentative as he worried at his lower lip, reaching out to cover the timer with his other hand. 

“I guess…” He rubbed his forearm with his fingers, unable to ignore the heat that continued to spread across his skin. “I don’t know why I feel so scared,” he admitted, picking at the flaky skin surrounding the edges of the raised line of each number.

“It’s understandable.” Cor nodded, reaching out to prise Prompto’s fingers away from his arm. “I’ll never forget the moment I found my timer- exciting and terrifying at the same time, right?”

“You have a soulmate?” Prompto couldn’t stop himself from asking the question, surprising himself with the volume of his own voice. He clamped his hand quickly over his mouth, shaking his head. Why did he never think before speaking? He was far too nosy for his own good, that’s what his parents used to say. He asked too many questions, wanted to know too many things that just weren’t his business. Probably the reason they hated him in the end. “Sorry…I…it’s none of my business. I shouldn’t…” His voice trailed off and he stared down at the table again, wrapping his hands around the now-lukewarm mug and gripping so tightly that he half expected it to break into pieces with the pressure.

“Prom, it’s fine.” Cor smiled again, reaching across the table to touch his hand reassuringly. “I don’t mind you asking questions. Honestly.”

“I just didn’t realise…”

“Why would you? I don’t talk about it much but…” he shrugged off his jacket and rolled up his sleeve, stretching out his arm to reveal the six zeros that made up his completed timer, matching Prompto’s exactly in position and size. 

“But…who?” Prompto glanced back down at his own arm, the numbers still counting down a second at a time in contrast to Cor’s solid, unwavering zeros. The skin surrounding Cor’s tattoo was scarred and weathered, but the numbers were still clearly visible and Prompto found himself thinking about what sort of person Cor might have been back when the skin on his forearm was as soft and undamaged as Prompto’s was now.

“Someone I cared about an awful lot. More than I can even describe.” Cor swallowed, his voice sounding small and strange as, for the first time, the tiniest emotion managed to work its way into his words. “It’s funny,” he continued. “I thought I didn’t need a soulmate, that I was fine on my own. But meeting them for the first time… it changed everything for me. It will for you, too.” He squeezed Prompto’s hand, his eyes glistening with tears despite his smile. “You’ll see. This is fate, Prompto. It’s meant to be.”

“So where are they now? Your soulmate?” Prompto looked up hesitantly, still unsure of himself. Cor had said it was okay for him to ask questions but he knew that there was a line, somewhere- one which he was terrified he was going to accidentally cross.

“That’s a story for another time.” The twinkle in Cor’s eye faded as the smallest tinge of sadness took its place, a vacant, distant expression spreading across his face. He didn’t look angry at Prompto for asking the question, though. He just looked sad. He was thinking about the past, Prompto thought. Something bad had happened. Something that he didn’t want to talk about.

“I’m sorry, Cor.” He wasn’t sure what he was sorry for. The fact that he had asked the question? Or the fact that Cor had, at some point, had a soulmate that he loved, someone who was no longer around? Part of him wanted to reach out and hug Cor tightly but that, he knew, would definitely be crossing the line. So he held back, his hands twitching around his mug as he waited for Cor to speak.

“Don’t be, kid. Shit happens and we deal with it. I was over it a long time ago.” He clamped his hand down on Prompto’s shoulder, squeezing tightly. “Now, you look like you were planning to go out?” He changed the subject quickly, the false cheerfulness in his voice a clear indication that the subject of soulmates was over, for now at least.

“Yeah.” Prompto forced a smile. “For a run.”

“Great plan.” Cor nodded in approval, picking up both cups of coffee, both still nearly full but now completely cold and undrinkable, before standing up and placing them on the side. He glanced back at Prompto, his eyes narrowing as he took in his bare arm and the anxious look on his face. He seemed to consider something for a few minutes, eventually clearing his throat and speaking again, his voice softer and more comforting this time. “I have to work for a few hours, but I’ll see if I can get home early if you want to talk more.”

“I don’t want to be a bother.” Prompto bit his lower lip again, looking down so that his hair, soft and flyaway on the rare occasions it was free of styling product, fell down like a veil over his eyes.

“You’re not.” Prompto felt Cor’s hand brush the hair away from his forehead in a strangely intimate gesture- one that was not, to Prompto’s surprise, completely unwelcome. Cor cleared his throat again. “It feels good to have you here. I guess it gets a little lonely, living on your own.”

Prompto smiled up through tufts of hair, fighting back a snigger of laughter as he caught Cor sweep away what he thought might be a solitary tear. An hour ago, he would never have thought Cor capable of such emotion, let alone that he would be in a position to experience it himself.

Catching a glimpse of Prompto’s bemused expression seemed to make Cor snap back to his usual, brisk self, all traces of emotion pushed back inside and hidden well away, as if none of the previous conversation had ever taken place. 

“Now get going, kid, before we both let our emotions get the better of us.” Cor gestured dramatically towards the door- a clear sign, Prompto thought, for him to get going and leave him to get ready for the day ahead. He was halfway up the stairs, where he planned to grab his sneakers and phone on his way out, when Cor’s voice caused him to turn back around. “Oh and Prom?”

“Mmm?” He leant over the railing at the side of the staircase to see Cor staring up at him, an unfamiliar expression on his face.

“Stay safe out there, okay?”

Prompto nodded enthusiastically and, this time, didn’t bother to try and hide his smile. It was nice to have someone who cared, someone who believed in him. And if Cor liked him, perhaps his soulmate would too! Maybe he wasn’t such a let down after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so so much for continuing to read. Comments and kudos are appreciated more than you realise <3


	4. Hour 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Nyx wakes up, full of regrets of the night before, an honest conversation with Crowe might be exactly what he needs to help him feel more positive about the future.

**9 hours to go**

When Nyx woke up- if you could call ’45 minutes with his eyes closed’ sleep, that is- his arm was throbbing, the pain enough for him to tug it out from where it lay trapped underneath his stomach and roll onto his back, massaging it roughly with his other hand. The sun was already shining through the window like a ghoul’s grin, smirking and mocking as its rays pierced Nyx’s eyes, forcing him to draw a hand across them in protection. He groaned, turning back onto his side and pulling the covers up tight, pressing his face into the pillow, the cool, soft cotton soothing against his pounding head. 

An intense itch spread along his forearm and he reached out to scratch at it, rubbing it briskly in an attempt to dull the irritation. It was only then- as the heat from his arm hit his hand- that he remembered. The timer. His soulmate. He’d half hoped it’d been a dream, some sort of alcohol-fuelled nightmare. A warning for him to stop drinking. But no. It was still here, tingling, sending sparks of electricity down every vein to the tips of his fingers as it counted down, each second one step closer to fulfilling what was supposedly his destiny. What was it that Libertus had said? _‘You’ll feel better about it in the morning,’_ he had murmured in Nyx’s ear just as they had been falling asleep. _‘Just wait and see. Things are always better in the morning.’_

Lies. Things weren’t better. If anything, thinking things through in the stark light of day without the alcohol to dull his senses, everything seemed ten times worse. This morning, waking felt like a hammer swung with gusto by one of his enemies, the target: a painted ‘x’ right in the middle of his skull. That was the only possible explanation for the agony sweeping through him, head swirling as the rays of sun caught the very corner of his eye, his headache so bad that he was finding it difficult to think about anything else. And as he lay there, eyes tightly closed to avoid the light, stomach nauseous and throat painfully dry, he wanted nothing more than to somehow travel back in time to a moment where none of this had happened yet. He’d do anything for a few more hours of ignorant bliss even if, as he knew must be the case, things would eventually turn out just the same. 

Nyx shivered, the bed warm but the draught from the open window enough to make him snuggle deeper underneath the covers.

“Lib?” he muttered, a hoarse croak sounding nothing like his friend’s name escaping his lips. 

He cleared his throat and stretched out in the bed, feeling around with his hand for where he was sure Libertus had fallen asleep not too long ago. He screwed up his brow in confusion as his hand hit nothing but cold, empty sheets. Where was he? He knew he’d had too much to drink- there was no point even trying to deny that- but he was sure he remembered everything. Most things at least: balancing on the table, being walked home, discovering his timer, being helping into bed, where Libertus had curled up next to him and held him reassuringly in the same way he had done when they were younger. He was sure he’d drifted off to sleep with Libertus’ arms wrapped around him, his head pressed up against his friend’s chest, comforted by the warmth that emanated from his body. But Libertus definitely wasn’t here now. The other side of the bed was empty and, by the feel of it, had been for some time.

He lay there, completely still, the throbbing so intense that it felt like something was pushing against the back of his head as it fought to escape and that this thing- whatever it was- might explode out from the back of his skull at any moment. It was quiet, the only sound coming from the clock, the omnipresent ‘tick, tock, tick, tock’ doing nothing to help Nyx’s headache. If he hadn’t felt so exhausted, he would have been tempted to jump out of bed, grab it and toss it across the room. Anything to make it stop. 

Nyx groaned again, pulling the pillow out from under his head and pressing it down over his face, over his ears. He needed silence. That’s what he needed right now. He needed to think, and there was no way he would be able to do that properly with that damn clock disturbing his thoughts. What time was it, anyway? He hadn’t gotten to bed until just after 6am in the end, and he knew either Crowe or Libertus would have set an alarm to make sure that he got up in time for training. He didn’t think he’d heard it go off, and there was no way Libertus would have let him sleep through it- that is, if he was still here. So it must be before 8am, which meant he hadn’t managed to get much sleep at all. At least that would explain why he was feeling so terrible… 

“Lib!” he called again, clearer this time, his voice louder as it cut through the almost-silence- loud enough to make him wince in pain as the sound hit his own ears. Nyx listened carefully for a reply but there was no response, his own breathing- quick and ragged as his frustration grew- and the ticking of the clock the only sounds reaching his ears. “Fuck’s sake, Lib” he muttered, more to himself than in any hope that his friend might hear. “Where the fuck are you? You’re never around when I need you…” 

That last comment wasn’t fair, he knew that. Libertus was _always_ there for him, whether it was to carry him home drunk, which he’d needed to do on far more occasions recently than Nyx wanted to admit, or simply to be present at the other end of the phone when Nyx called him at some ungodsly hour in a panic after one of his nightmares, too frightened to do anything but sob uncontrollably to one of the only people he trusted. But he wasn’t here now. Or at least, Nyx didn’t think he was.

Nyx reluctantly prised open his eyelids, squinting into the sun as he pushed himself up. Letting out a sigh, he swung his legs out of the bed and climbed to his feet, suddenly aware of how much every muscle in his body was aching. He supposed he deserved it- his body’s way of exacting revenge on him for the way he had treated it last night. It was hard, having to fight his way through the day, through his training sessions, his body arguing with him every step of the way. But he didn’t know what else to do to get him through this rough patch. It was nothing new, these periods of intense depression. There had been many of them since he’d arrived here from Galadh. Not that anybody blamed him for struggling- how could they after everything that had happened? 

There was something different this time though. He seemed to have been feeling this way for longer, the sadness running deeper, and, instead of seeing a light at the end of the tunnel, he found himself faced with eternal darkness. Regardless, the sensible part of his mind knew what he was doing wasn’t helpful, that he couldn’t go on like this forever, doing whatever the fuck he wanted with no regard to his health. But he wasn’t sure he knew how to stop, how to ask for help. This was his life now: days distracted by a blistering hangover and nights in a drunken haze with no time to think about anything else. 

He stood there for a few moments, unsure if he had enough strength to move from the spot he was standing on, his legs trembling underneath him, threatening to buckle under the weight of his body. He took one tentative step forward, leaning against the wall for support as he made his way towards the door in search of Libertus. With each step, he felt something ignite inside him- a spark of hope, a determination to find a way out of the darkness, a way that didn’t involve such self-destructive behaviour. He’d been taking the easy way out in the same way as he always did, using alcohol as an avoidance strategy. But he couldn’t avoid things forever. Sooner or later, he needed to face up to them, to find a way to work through them so that he could get on with the rest of his life. It was what his sister would have wanted and, the more he thought about it, the more he hated the thought of her seeing him like this, wasting his life away behind a mask, a shield that was protecting him in many ways but, at the same time, stopping him from truly living. 

Now if he could just find Libertus, talk things through with him, actually listen to him for a change instead of making excuses for his behaviour…. Yes, that was his first step. Libertus would know what to do. He always did. And this time, Nyx was willing to listen.

********

**8 hours 35 minutes to go**

He found Libertus in the kitchen, head pressed against the kitchen table and snoring gently, a cup of coffee- now almost completely cold- still clutched in his hand as he slept. He looked exhausted, the dark shadows under his eyes a stark contrast to his pale skin, more sallow and ghostly than usual, as if it had been drained of all colour. 

Nyx felt a pang of guilt stab through his chest as he took in Libertus’ appearance. He knew it was at least partly his fault. He hadn’t exactly been an easy person to be around recently and, although Libertus never once complained, he realised now it must be hard for him to watch his best friend fall apart so spectacularly. He wasn’t sure why he hadn't considered it before. He’d been too caught up in himself, in his own problems, to notice the effect it was having on those around him. But seeing Libertus sprawled across the table made him more determined than ever to sort things out, to get himself out of this depression he’d been trapped in for far too long.

Backing up towards the door, determined to leave Libertus to sleep for as long as he possibly could, he grabbed his phone off the side and made his way into the living room, pulling the door closed with a barely audible click. He held the phone up to his face to check the time, eyes still squinting as they adjusted to the bright screen. 7:25am. Still early. Far too early to be awake under normal circumstances. But these weren’t normal circumstances. These were so far away from normal circumstances that he might as well have crossed into another dimension for how confused and disorientated he was feeling.

Nyx slumped down onto the couch, allowing his body to sink into the soft, fluffy cushions surrounding him, sighing as the first signs of hopelessness began to re-emerge. Ten minutes ago he had been so full of determination but, with Libertus asleep, it would have been so easy to just allow himself to fall right back to where he had been when he had first woken up, where he had been last night, and for many nights before that. 

“No, Nyx,” he muttered to himself, staring down at the timer on his arm with hope this time rather than fear. “No more.” As he spoke the words aloud, the sound filling the ears of nobody but himself, he knew he meant what he said. He wouldn’t let things overwhelm him this time. He couldn’t afford to let that happen- not for himself or for his friends. He owed it to them to at least try to drag himself back above the water. And if he was honest with himself he knew this wasn’t where he wanted to be. It wasn’t how he wanted to spend the rest of his life. He didn’t want to drown.

He sat up straight, running his hands through his hair as he fidgeted with his phone. Libertus may not have been awake but there was someone else he could call, someone he knew would tell him things as they were rather than repeating the words they thought he wanted to hear. As the phone rang, he held his breath, counting each tinny ring in his head as he rehearsed what he was going to say. 

“Hello?” When a voice finally answered, it was slurred and ever so slightly husky as if the person it belonged to was still half asleep.

“Crowe?”

“What? Oh, shit…” The voice trailed off, the rest of the words becoming muffled as a hand was pressed over the phone, the next part of the sentence clearly not directed at him. “Crowe…I answered your phone by mistake again.” There was a small giggle- Crowe’s laugh, the one that sounded just like his sister’s- followed by a deeper chuckle that Nyx recognised at once as Aranea’s.

“Who is it?” Crowe asked, her voice quiet and distant, a rustle of bedsheets masking the rest of the conversation as she, presumably, reached out to grab her phone from Aranea. For a moment, Nyx considered hanging up, his confidence fading with each passing second but, just as he was about to cancel the call, he heard Crowe’s voice on the other end of the line. “Nyx? Is that you?” 

“Hey. Yeah…it’s me.”

“How are you feeling? Any better?” Crowe’s words were laced with a concern Nyx knew he didn’t deserve. 

“Yeah…” He paused, unsure what to say next. He’d planned it all out in his head before he’d dialled Crowe’s number but now, nervous and ashamed of last night’s behaviour, it was all forgotten, an empty void in his mind where the words had once been. “I…um… Sorry about last night. I…” He stopped, the memory of his father’s voice suddenly cutting through his thoughts. _‘Apologies mean nothing if you keep repeating the same mistakes. Always remember- my boy- actions speak louder than words.’_ Yes, he finally understood what his father had meant all those years ago. And he was ready to act. He really was.

“Don’t worry about it, babe,” Crowe replied in her usual calm, reassuring manner, the silky smoothness of her voice like a gentle, warming caress. “As long as you’re okay now, that’s all that matters. I was… sorry…’Nea, stop that…sorry, Nyx. Just…hang on one sec, okay?”

“Sure…” Nyx couldn’t help but smile as he listened to the shared laughter on the other end of the phone. Aranea, from the sounds of it, was attempting to distract Crowe from their conversation, the small moans and frequent giggling a sign she was doing a pretty good job of it! Before too long, however, another rustle of sheets was followed by the sound of footsteps padding across a wooden floor. There was a creak followed by a soft thud as a door closed. 

“Nyx? You still there?” It was quieter now, as if Crowe had somehow managed to successfully make her escape from the bedroom to continue their conversation. “Nyx?”

“Yeah, still here!” This time, Nyx didn’t even attempt to keep the amusement out of his voice. He was happy for Crowe, he really was. Aranea was good for her. Ever since they’d met, she’d been happier, had more of a sparkle about her. Sure, they were very different in a lot of ways but…she made her happy and- to Nyx at least- that was the only thing that mattered.

“Sorry about all that. ‘Nea was just…”

“Crowe, I love you- really I do. But I don’t want to hear the details of anything you and Aranea were doing just now.” Nyx chuckled, rubbing his hand across the back of his neck, his muscles already feeling looser and less tense than they had done for a long time. 

“No…that’s fair,” Crowe giggled. “Seriously though- you’re okay? And this whole soulmate thing…getting used to the idea yet?” Her voice had taken on a more serious tone, the question asked far too tentatively, as if she was afraid of how Nyx would react. He supposed that was fair enough, considering how he’d acted last night, how adamant he’d been that he didn’t need a soulmate. That he didn’t want one. But things were different now. Maybe it wasn’t such a bad thing.

“I…” Nyx took a deep breath and swallowed, his throat dry and tight. “To be honest, I’m still kind of freaking out about it.” He hardly recognised his own voice, the words sticking at the back of his mouth as though they were afraid to be said, afraid of what would happen when he finally admitted his fear “I’d kind of gotten used to not having a soulmate. This is… well, it’s a lot to take in.”

“Yeah, I get that. But Nyx? You want me to be honest?” The question was followed by a short pause, but not one long enough for Nyx to give an answer. “This soulmate business- it’s the best thing that’s ever happened to you.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. You need someone, Nyx. You might say that you don’t but I _know_ you, and I know when you’re struggling. And whatever you think about the gods, about soulmates, about all this crap… you need someone, someone who gets you.”

Nyx closed his eyes. It was exactly what he’d thought she’d say. It’s what he’d been thinking himself for the past half an hour or so but, hearing it from someone else, someone whose opinion he trusted so emphatically, was what he’d been waiting for. 

He couldn’t deny it any longer. For months now, possibly even longer when he thought about it, he’d been missing something- something or someone- and maybe, just maybe, his soulmate might be the thing to fill that gap. 

“Hey. Nyx? You okay?” Nyx had been so lost in his own thoughts that, for a moment, he’d forgotten where he was and what he was doing but, at the sound of Crowe’s voice, immediately snapped back to the present, suddenly remembering that he was still on the phone, that Crowe was probably expecting some sort of response.

“Shit. Sorry. I was just thinking…”

“About?”

“Galadh. Selena. Soulmates. You know, the usual.” He laughed again and, this time, it felt real. He could feel it in his chest, in every muscle in his body, releasing the tension he had been storing there for as long as he could remember. Not just a fake laugh, a laugh taken from a stored stock of emotions that he had learnt to dole out as expected. This was different. He knew that, this time, when the laughter left him the joy and hope that had come with it would remain. 

Crowe giggled too, a sigh of relief simultaneously escaping her lips. “I’ll take the laughter as a good sign?” she spluttered when they had both stopped laughing, her voice taking on the same serious tone as before. 

“Yeah,” Nyx replied. “It’s a good thing. I think… I think you’re right. I do need something. Someone. This is…”

“Crowe, come back to bed!” He could hear Aranea call out from behind the closed door, her voice full of both frustration and temptation in equal measure.

“‘Nea, I’m still on the phone!”

“But it’s so cold here without you…” Nyx could almost hear the pout in her voice as she attempted to seduce Crowe away from the call. She had lost the first time, but that had clearly made her all the more determined in her attempts to lure her lover back to bed. There was silence on the other end of the line as Crowe decided what to say in reply but Nyx knew by the way her breaths caught in the back of her throat, each one becoming shallower and more excited than the last, that her resolve was weakening. “You know I’ll make it worth your while!”

The last statement seemed to be the final straw, and Crowe could resist no longer. “Nyx…”

“Go, Crowe. I’m fine, I promise.” He laughed again, the veil of depression that had been weighing him down for the past few months lifting a little further with each smile. 

“But…”

“Go! Seriously, go! I don’t want to be the one responsible for what’ll happen if Aranea’s kept waiting!” 

“She said she’ll make it worth my while…”

“You make sure she does,” Nyx chuckled, pushing himself off the couch and stretching his arms above his head, holding the phone in place between his ear and his shoulder as he did so. “And Crowe?”

“Mmm?”

“Thanks for the chat.”

“No problem, babe.”

And, with that, the phone went dead, leaving the apartment filled with silence once more. This time, however, Nyx didn’t feel intimidated. Crowe had confirmed his own thoughts and, now, he felt hopeful, excited even, for what the future might hold.

********

**8 hours 15 minutes to go**

When he next poked his head around the kitchen door, he was pleased to see Libertus awake and humming to himself as he made up a pot of coffee. His smile was bright and cheerful when he caught sight of Nyx. “Hey! You look better this morning.”

“Yeah. Yeah I am.” Nyx grinned, taking a seat at the table as he watched Libertus continue to make the coffee. He really did feel better- a million miles from the way he’d felt the night before. The conversation with Crowe, the realisation that meeting his soulmate might be a lifeline, had done him the world of good.

“Been awake long?”

“A while. Just been speaking to Crowe.” He paused, taking in his friend’s slightly confused expression, the wrinkling of the brow that always happened whenever he was trying to figure something out. Nyx reasoned that he was he probably trying to work out what he could possibly have thought important enough to discuss with Crowe at this time in the morning, especially when he had seen her only a few hours earlier. “About the soulmate thing,” he clarified, instinctively clutching a hand to his forearm, where he could feel the timer still burning into his skin. 

“Ah…” Libertus smiled, eyes floating down to Nyx’s arm where they lingered for a few moments before snapping back up to his face. “What’d she say?” He pulled out the chair next to Nyx and slid into it, pushing a freshly-made cup of coffee across the table into Nyx’s hands before leaning across to the counter and grabbing a second cup for himself.

“That it’s a good thing. That it’s what I need.” As he repeated Crowe’s words, he felt his smile grow, the hopefulness that had been building inside him almost ready to burst free from its shell. 

“Obviously, dude,” Libertus sniggered, giving Nyx a playful punch on the shoulder. “You needed her to tell you that?”

“Okay, okay, so I’ll admit I was talking shit last night.” Nyx raised one eyebrow at Libertus, shaking his hand away from his shoulder and laying his arm flat on the table so that his timer was displayed in all its glory, the black numbers now bringing with them an eager anticipation that made Nyx’s heart leap in his chest.

“Never a truer word spoken…”

They sat there in silence, both sipping their cups of coffee, both pairs of eyes glued to the timer as it counted down to Nyx’s future, the promise of happier times hanging brightly in the air around them.

“Breakfast?” Libertus questioned, already getting up from the table and beginning to rummage through the empty cupboards. “Shit, Nyx. How do you live?” He turned around, pulling out a packet containing a few slices of mouldy bread, probably a couple of weeks old, from one of the cupboards. “This is literally the only thing in here!”

“Yeah, well…” Nyx shrugged and stared down at the table. While part of him was ashamed, the other part was unsure why Libertus had expected anything else from him. It’d been pretty obvious to everyone that he’d been doing a shitty job of looking after himself recently. Libertus grabbed the mouldy bread and headed towards the door, merely raising one eyebrow at Nyx as he passed him. “Where are you going?”

“Food!” Libertus called back. “You be okay while I’m gone?”

“Yeah,” he murmured, a smile on his face as he traced the numbers on his arm. And, for once, he wasn’t lying. He had a soulmate, a way to push forward, to put everything behind him and move on with his life. A way to be happy again. “I think I’m going to be just fine.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So that's the angst out of the way. Now that both these boys are excited about meeting, there will definitely be fluffier times ahead!
> 
> Thank you for all the comments and feedback on this- they mean so much and always encourage me to keep writing.
> 
> [Come and chat on tumblr](https://butterfly-girl86.tumblr.com/).


	5. Hour 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompto is finally excited about the future and is determined to make his first meeting with his soulmate absolutely perfect. But will his daydreaming be his undoing?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this has taken a while to update- so many writing possibilities but so little time!
> 
> Hope you enjoy <3

**8 hours to go**

Going for a run had been a great idea in the end. It was still cool enough that he’d had to wear a sweater to keep warm but he preferred it that way. Besides, it hadn’t taken him long to warm up and now, his sweater tied loosely around his waist and his long sleeved shirt clinging to his back, he knew he was beginning to sweat heavily. He shook his head in an attempt to flip away the tangles of hair that were plastered to his forehead but they didn’t move, instead deciding to dangle down even lower so that the ends tickled his eyelids. Brushing them back hurriedly, he reminded himself to get one of the sweatbands that Gladio had been recommending for ages now. It wasn’t that he disliked sweating- the opposite actually. He found it cathartic. The way his muscles burned and his heart thumped in his chest, the adrenaline that flowed through his veins, the heat that emanated from his flushed cheeks… the more he ran the more he craved the effect it had on his body. When he thought about it, he realised it was the only time he really felt at peace with himself.

Despite all that, he couldn’t help but feel frustrated at how unfit he must look. He’d worked hard to get to this point, and was now able to run both faster and further than he’d ever thought possible but he still worried that when people looked at him all they’d see was the overweight, unfit version of himself, the version that he still expected to see staring back whenever he looked in the mirror. It was a pleasant surprise, really, when he remembered what he actually looked like these days was nothing like the picture he had in his head. He wasn’t sure he’d ever be happy with his appearance- the weight loss hadn’t changed his awful freckles or the horrible purple eyes that everyone seemed to be fascinated with. But he looked better, at least. Acceptable.

He'd always thought as he got fitter he’d finally begin to sweat less but- in actual fact- it seemed to be the complete opposite. He’d never understood those people who somehow seemed to look exactly the same after exercise as they did when they started. Ignis was a prime example. Prompto had sat and watched his workouts with Gladio, and he knew he worked hard because well… it was Ignis and Ignis never did things by halves. But when they’d finished he still looked perfect with barely a hair out of place, the only sign of any exertion the slight glow that spread across his skin, making it look like a polished stone. 

Prompto knew that he definitely didn’t look good after exercise. Or during exercise either, for that matter. Far from glowing like Ignis, his training sessions left him looking like he needed someone to dunk him in an ice bath quickly, anything to put out the fire in his cheeks. It wasn’t his fault that he was so pale or that his skin flushed red at the slightest suggestion of heat. He’d moaned once about how unfair it was but Gladio had just laughed at him, and even Ignis had looked mildly amused at the whole thing. So he didn’t complain anymore and, if he was honest with himself, didn’t really care. He loved the way running made him feel and, for probably the only time in his life, found himself not worrying about what others thought of him. _Still,_ he thought as he reached up to brush a droplet of sweat out of his stinging eyes. It’s probably a good thing that my soulmate isn’t meeting me for the first time like this. 

Lost in the sensation of his feet pounding rhythmically against the sidewalk, his limbs moved underneath him as though on auto-pilot. The motion feel effortless and, as he zoned out the world around him and tuned into the music blaring through his headphones, he stopped thinking about what he was doing- focusing instead on his soulmate. His missing part. Though it wouldn’t be missing for long. In eight hours he would be complete.. He felt a grin stretch from ear to ear as he thought about it. How could he ever have felt worried? It was what he’d been waiting for, and it was going to be wonderful. He was going to make sure it was wonderful.

********

**7 hours 45 minutes to go**

As Prompto rounded the corner and made his way along the final straight towards Cor’s apartment, he found himself wondering what his soulmate would be like, what he would look like. Or she, he supposed. It wasn’t set in stone that there would be any sort of romantic attraction. He knew that, in many cases, the connection with a soulmate was completely platonic. Take Noct and Luna, for example- there was no sexual attraction there but they completed each other in lots of other ways. He knew he shouldn’t expect romance- that to even hope for it was setting himself up for disappointment- but he wanted it so desperately that he couldn’t help himself.

He’d always pictured someone tall, dark and handsome. Someone who knew how to make him laugh. Someone who could handle the dark days without getting angry or frustrated at him. Someone who wasn’t afraid to hug him or kiss him or hold his hand in public. Someone who would hold him close each night, stroking his hair as he rested his head on their chest. Someone who loved him. That’s what he wanted most of all- to be loved. And although he knew none of these things were guaranteed, he couldn’t put them out of his mind. Even if he somehow managed to convince himself he’d be okay with less, he knew it would be a lie. He’d had this dream for too many years. He couldn’t let it go. Not now. Not when he was so close.

He was still thinking about it, smiling to himself as he daydreamed about the future, when the toe of his sneaker caught the edge of a broken paving stone, causing him to stumble forward. If he’d have been less exhausted, more focused on what he was doing, he might have been able to regain his balance. But by the time he realised what was happening it was too late, and he hit the ground with such a thud that he was sure he must have broken every bone in his body.

“Shit.” He bit his lower lip, his eyes filling with tears as he lay there in a crumpled heap, too scared to even look at his injuries. Both knees were burning and, as he tried to pull out his right leg from where it had got trapped underneath his body, the sensation of broken skin grazing against the rough concrete made him cry out in pain. 

“You’re ok, kid.” A voice, unfamiliar yet soft and soothing all the same, drifted towards him followed by a hand pressed to his shoulder, the palm cool enough even through his shirt sleeves to make him shiver. Or maybe it was the shock that was making him shiver, he wasn’t sure. He wasn’t sure he could think about anything other than how much his legs hurt, waves of pain surging through him as the man tried to move him. “Let’s get you sitting up. Come on, kid. Put your arm round my shoulder.”

Prompto did as he was told, going limp as the stranger wrapped both arms underneath his legs and lifted him up with such ease that, for a moment, Prompto felt like he must have become completely weightless. Once he was away from the road- which Prompto now realised he’d been lying dangerously close to- he was gently placed down and his legs stretched out in front of him. The grazed skin twisted and pulled apart with every movement, and he gasped in pain, burying his face in the man’s jacket to hide the warm tears that were streaming down his cheeks. 

“Sorry…I…” He gasped again, reaching up to wipe his face, willing his eyes to stop producing so many tears. 

“Don’t be, kid.” The stranger smiled down at him warmly and Prompto tried to smile back as best he could, the skin around his eyes feeling tight and uncomfortable from the salty combination of tears and sweat that clung to it. 

The man- a glaive, if the uniform was anything to go by- looked familiar but, try as he might, Prompto couldn’t remember his name, if he’d ever known it, even. He met a lot of people when he was at the Citadel and although he felt more comfortable there now, less out of place, it was still overwhelming. More often than not, he escaped with Noct as quickly as he could, muttering polite ‘hellos’ and ‘goodbyes’ without ever really knowing who he was talking to. 

“Is he okay, Lib?” A woman darted across the road, her face etched with concern as she made her way towards him. 

“He’s good,” the man- ‘Lib’, the woman had called him- replied, crouching down on the ground beside him and giving his shoulder another squeeze. “You’re good. Nothing broken by the looks of it.” 

“Must be pretty painful though. You took a real tumble there, scared us a little.” The woman sank down beside him, taking his hand in hers and running her fingers over his knuckles, the slow, delicate strokes kind and reassuring. “I’m Crowe, by the way, and this idiot is Libertus.” She gestured towards the man who grinned back at her. “You got a name?”

“Prompto…” He took a deep breath and glanced down at his knees, which were both bleeding profusely. 

“You mind if I take a look at this?” She pointed at his face, which Prompto hadn’t even realised he’d injured. He’d been so focused on the pain in his legs that he hadn’t noticed his chin was also stinging. It made sense though. The palms of his hands, which he’d expected to be completely torn apart, seemed unharmed so he must have fallen so quickly he hadn’t even had time to put out his arms to protect himself. “I promise I won’t hurt you.” Crowe gazed down at him with such sincerity in her eyes that Prompto found himself nodding.

“You’re safe with Crowe, kid. She can fix everything.”

“Not quite everything,” Crowe laughed quietly, winking at Prompto as she placed her forefinger underneath his chin and tilted it up. She stared at the wound intently, her forehead furrowed into a slight frown. He realised her face was so close to his that he could feel her breath, warm and soft, brush lightly against his skin but, for some reason, it didn’t bother him. She could be trusted- he’d known that the moment he’d laid eyes on her. “Anyway- stop being so damn patronising. His name’s Prompto, remember, and I’m guessing he’s not too much younger than me. So definitely _not_ a kid.”

“I can always call you kid too, if you’d like.” Libertus gave a snort of laughter which Crowe seemed to ignore.

“You wouldn’t fucking dare.” Crowe glared across at Libertus, her lips twitching into a smile despite her efforts to hide it. She turned back to Prompto and smiled kindly, brushing his hair away from his forehead before returning her attention to his bleeding chin. “Just ignore him, Prompto. He thinks he’s funny but…”

“I am funny!”

“Whatever you say, Lib.” Crowe shook her head, raising one eyebrow at Prompto as though they were sharing a private joke. “Told you he was an idiot,” she murmured, lowering her head so that she was practically whispering in his ear.

“I heard that!” Libertus exclaimed, putting on an expression of mock hurt which would have been almost believable if it wasn’t for the fact that he couldn’t hold back his laughter.

Crowe smiled, letting her forefinger dust lightly over Prompto’s chin, her touch against his red raw skin causing him to wince in pain. “I’m sorry, Prompto.” She looked at him sympathetically, removing her hand and reaching into her pocket for her phone. “This is a pretty nasty graze- it’ll be a while healing but it shouldn’t leave a scar as long as you look after it properly. You should get it cleaned up though.” She glanced thoughtfully towards his knees. “These too. I’d do it myself but I don’t want to hurt you. Is there someone we can call to take you home?”

Prompto wracked his brains for who to call. Cor would be at work now, and he’d already bothered him enough for one day. He thought of Noct, but it was still early and he would be heading to his meeting before long. The only other people he could think of were Gladio and Ignis, but for some reason he felt embarrassed at the thought of them finding out about his accident. He reached up to touch his chin, the skin moist and sticky underneath his fingertips. It wasn’t going to heal over night, that was for sure, and it wasn’t like he’d be able to cover it up. So he supposed they’d find out sooner or later. May as well be sooner.

“Um…I guess you could call my friend, Gladio. I can’t remember his number but I have it in my phone. I just…” He tried to reach into his back pocket, where he hoped his phone was still in one piece.

“Gladiolus Amicitia?” Libertus asked, his eyebrows raised in surprised. “Like, the Shield? He’s your friend?”

“Yeah… that’s him.” Prompto could feel his cheeks burning and he stared down at the ground, swallowing the nervous lump that had formed at the back of his throat. People were always shocked when they found out who his friends were. He guessed he probably didn’t look like the sort of person the Shield would choose to be friends with…

“Relax,” Crowe murmured, wrapping her hand around his and squeezing it tightly. “You’ve got Gladio’s number right, Lib?”

“Yep. Dialling now! We’ll get you home and resting in no time, kid. Don’t you worry about a thing.”

********

**7 hours 20 minutes to go**

It had been Ignis who’d answered the phone in the end and who’d subsequently pulled up alongside him in his car, loaded him into the passenger seat and driven him back to the apartment he shared with Gladio. Prompto was actually quite relieved. If Gladio had been there, he knew he would have been showered with question after question, probably punctuated by the odd joke about his clumsiness. Gladio meant well, and Prompto often appreciated how forthright he was, but he was embarrassed and in pain and needed some time to calm down after what had happened. Ignis was more tactful, offering nothing more than a tender embrace and a thanks to Libertus and Crowe for looking after him. Their short journey home had been silent, though Prompto was aware of the concerned glances that Ignis kept shooting in his direction, taking his eyes off the road for just long enough to check he was okay. 

Gladio was pacing up and down the driveway when they arrived, his eyes widening when he glimpsed Prompto through the car window. Ignis hadn’t even switched off the engine before Gladio was there by the car, swinging open the door and leaning inside to inspect Prompto’s face. 

“Prom…” he began. Prompto closed his eyes and rested his head back, still not fully prepared for the interrogation he knew was on its way. But it never came. Instead he felt strong arms underneath his legs and, before he knew what was happening, he was swept up out of the car seat and into the apartment. Once inside, he was carried straight to the couch where he was gently set down, his head lifted slightly to nestle a soft, plump pillow behind it. Part of him felt embarrassed that his clumsiness had made so many people worry about him but the other part felt grateful that he had people who cared about him enough to make such a fuss. He was sure the inevitable teasing about how accident prone he was wasn’t far away but even that came from a place of love and, though he pretended to complain, secretly really quite enjoyed it. It made him feel like he was one of them.

When Ignis started to to clean out the wounds on his knees, rinsing them one at a time with warm water before dabbing them dry as gently as he possibly could, Prompto felt the corners of his eyes prick with tears and bit his lip to stop himself from letting out a yelp of pain.

“There,” Ignis murmured as he finished work on the second knee, stretching out the dressing so that it covered the wound entirely. “Two down, one to go.” He smiled reassuringly, picking up the bowl of water he’d been using and climbing to his feet. “Clean water,” he explained as he saw Prompto look at him questioningly. “I’ll be back in a few moments. In the meantime, please try to relax.”

 _Try to relax._ It was definitely easier said than done. His knees were throbbing and his chin burning as though someone had set fire to it, and Gladio’s half bemused, half concerned stare wasn’t helping matters.

“Fuck, Blondie.” Gladio exploded almost the second Ignis had left the room, moving to perch on the edge of the couch where he held Prompto’s chin between his thumb and forefinger and stared at it as if in disbelief that he’d managed to cause himself such an injury. The touch- gentle though it was- caused a hiss to escape Prompto’s lips and he jammed his eyes shut in an effort to stop himself from crying. “What the hell you been doing?” 

“I was just running.” His voice was quiet and he found himself unable to meet Gladio’s eye. He didn’t feel like having to explain why he’d been so distracted. The whole soulmate business didn’t need to come in to it. He’d been running and he’d tripped, and that was all there was to it. It could have happened to anyone. Except it always seemed to happen to him and, this time, his all-too-conspicuous injuries couldn’t have come at a more inconvenient time. 

“Yeah?” Gladio raised one eyebrow. “I don’t generally come away from my runs looking like I’ve been attacked by a daemon.”

“Hush, Gladio.” Ignis poked his head around the door of the living room and shot Prompto a sympathetic glance. “Can’t you see he’s hurt?!”

“It’s pretty damn hard to miss!” Gladio chuckled, his eyes lingering on Prompto’s grazed chin. Prompto blushed, instinctively raising a hand to cover his face. Gladio’s teasing was no worse than usual- in fact, he seemed to be going pretty easy on him- but, for some reason, he felt particularly self conscious this morning.

“Gladio!” Ignis exclaimed, kneeling back down beside him and placing the fresh bowl of water next to him. He soaked a cloth in the water before ringing it out and reaching up to dab at the graze.

“I fell, okay?!” Prompto blurted out. “I was a little distracted and I must have tripped. I… I don’t really know how it happened. Shit, Iggy. That really hurts.” He grimaced and tried to pull his chin out of Ignis’ grasp, letting out a moan of pain as Ignis continued to pat the wound with the cloth, rubbing more fiercely in his attempts to get it clean.

“My apologies for hurting you, Prompto, but I must make sure this is thoroughly cleaned.”

“Can’t you just use a potion?” Prompto asked, his eyes wide and hopeful as he peered up at Ignis from behind his bangs.

“For such a minor injury?” Ignis chuckled, brushing Prompto’s hair away and tucking it behind his ear before resuming the cleaning. “I’m sure it must be painful but there really is no need for a potion. It will heal well enough on its own.”

“Oh…”

“Oh? Why, Oh?” Gladio looked over at him, his amber eyes warm and questioning.

“It’s just… Shit…” He let his voice trail off. What could he say, really? That he was going to meet his soulmate in just over seven hours and he really didn’t want his face to be in this much of a mess the first time they saw each other? That he didn’t want their first conversation to be an explanation of how he’d managed to get such a ridiculous injury? That he already felt ugly enough at the best of times without having to deal with this?

“What is it, Blondie? It really hurts that bad?”

“No… well, yeah it hurts. Like, it really fucking hurts when you rub at it like that, Iggy.” Prompto winced again but held his head steady. The more he moved around, the harder it was for Ignis to clean it. If he could just stay still, it would be over much quicker. “But it isn’t that… it’s…”

“Unfortunately I haven’t yet mastered the skill of telepathy...” Ignis stopped what he was doing, placing the cloth in the bowl of water and wiping his hands on his pants. 

“Iggy’s right, Prom. You gotta talk if you want us to understand what the fuck is going on.”

They both stared at him, waiting for him to talk. His reaction was unreasonable, he knew that. But he couldn’t help it. He’d wanted this to be perfect- the meeting he’d always dreamt of followed by the life he’d always wanted- but already it seemed to be going wrong.

“I must look really shitty,” he murmured, looking away and taking a deep breath. There. He’d said it. And if they thought he was pathetic, so be it.

“I can assure you it doesn’t look nearly as bad as you think, Prompto. And I’m sure there are things we can do to speed up the healing process.”

“But I need it to be healed by this afternoon!” He knew his voice sounded whiny but he didn’t care. This was important. He wasn’t going to fuck it up, not this time. 

“Yeah…that’s not gonna happen, Blondie.” Gladio slung his arm around his shoulders and pulled him close, ruffling his hair affectionately. “You’re just gonna have to wait this one out.” 

“I’m sure you’re aware that even if we used a potion on the wound now, it’s been so long since you sustained the injury that it would still leave a mark, and an obvious one at that.” Ignis looked at Gladio, who simply shrugged as if to say _‘I don’t know what’s going on here either.’_ Sighing, he sat down on the arm of the couch and pushed his glasses up on his nose. “The best thing you can do is let your body heal itself.”

“But I can’t meet my soulmate looking like this!” Prompto cried before he could stop himself, burying his head in his hands so he didn’t have to look at his friends. It wasn’t how he’d wanted them to find out, but that was too late now. Running his hands through his hair, still tangled and matted with sweat, he took a deep breath. He couldn’t hide for ever. Sooner or later he’d have to talk. 

He uncurled himself just enough to let his eyes drift in Gladio’s direction, the veil of hair that was usually such an irritation when it fell forward over his eyes now welcome protection from his friends’ surprised stares. Gladio was sitting there completely still, his arms folded across his chest and mouth slightly open as though he wanted to say something but had been frozen in time. He glanced across at Ignis, who was wearing an almost identical expression, his usually calm, unreadable face filled with shock. “So…” He laughed uncomfortably, forcing a smile as he rolled up his sleeve to reveal the timer. “I guess I have a soulmate after all.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have to say, this has happened to me twice when I've been running (the second time needed stitches!) and I absolutely believe that Prom is as accident prone as I am, despite his competence with a weapon! Trust Prom to do something like this at such an inconvenient time though...
> 
> As always, all comments and feedback are very much appreciated c:
> 
> [Come and chat on tumblr](https://butterfly-girl86.tumblr.com/). I like to talk.


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